Nurfs
by Ale of Dreams
Summary: The boys are alone in a mansion with one form of entertainment. Who will win this battle of the suction cup bullets? No pairings. Fluff fic. One shot


I own Nothing.

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Slowly, slowly now. Slow as one could creep. His hand tensed around the gun, the plastic was warm in his hand like a steel masterpiece ready to abide by it's master's command. The long stick rested in the crook of his arm as his long braid began to tug against the smooth white wall. Slowly now. He inched towards the edge of the darkness, sound in his plan. He knew what he would do. His blue eyes rested at the corners of his slits, his lashes hid the whites from even the slightest shimmer, and his knees were folded in his sneak. The edge of his leg slipped to the shadow and his target was in view. His breathing echoed in his skull as he imagined the pure sweet victory that he would savor like a watermelon on a hot summer day with a pitcher of lemonade.

Now! He spun around the corner flicking his braid over his shoulder as he landed with his foot smacked against the hard floor. His black form appeared in the bright light and he aimed in less time then he could think, firing. He ducked back into the shadows, kneeling and his fingers slipped across the rubber. They caught against it's squishy cup and he pushed the yellow foam into the eager hole. His hand glided down the back, touching the two sticks meant for aiming and his index finger caught the cocking ring. He yanked it as it gave a satisfying cracking and flipped around the corner again, this time diving, and rolling across the hall. As he reached the other side, he was protected by a couch and kneeling upon his opposite leg. He put down his hand upon the ground and gazed down the long hall towards the empty section. He growled in irritation. The mirror showed nothing.

Glancing back at the shadows, he gave a brief motion before turning to the other side of the couch, twisting to his right and peaking around it's puffed out fluff. He gazed into the small sitting area to find no one hiding across the other side of the couch. He frowned, knowing that the boy had to be here somewhere. He had just shot at him, he had to be here somewhere. Confused and bewildered he jumped to his next hide out, behind a chair. In this position he was well protected with a wall at his back and the chair at his front. The hallway that traveled behind the couch was the only place he could be shot from easily due to the table that was pushed up against the wall, but he was trapped there. Feeling secure at his base, he watched intently as the shadows moved.

The shadow ducked and rolled landing it's sandy blond self against the black couch. He peaked around the chair to cover fire and wondered where the boy could be hiding. The sandy blond haired boy, now in the lead of their set, slowly slipped around the corner of the couch with his gun cocked and ready. He shuffled across the way and put his back to the other chair. The braided boy's heart raced as he watched his partner peak around the corner. The blond boy shrieked and flipped around the chair so fast, that the braided boy could have sworn he saw a fly darting for it's life. The boy, the dark brown haired boy, appeared from behind the chair. He stood on two feet with tight black shorts as he aimed and fired on the blond boy. He reloaded as the braided boy fired, and saw it just in time to dodge. Hit, the blond haired boy fell in a dramatic grunt. He winced and grabbed at the injury falling upon a coffee table with his head and shoulder, his hands gripping at the Styrofoam suction cup that had struck him, holding it where it struck.

"Duo! Oh, Duo!" The boy cried out.

Startled and unappeased by this performance, the dark brown haired boy rolled his eyes and turned, leaving.

The braided boy gasped once the other was out of the room and ran over to the table scooping up the blond with almost teary eyes. The only thing missing was the tears. "N-N-no! You can't leave me Quatre! You can't die!"

"I-I'm sorry Duo." The man tensed up, acting as if he were in pain. He gasped and reached up a quivering hand, "I did all I could." Quatre fell limp in Duo's arm. His hand slid down and rested peacefully on his chest.

Duo, shaken by this in play, gently lay his comrade down, and shook upon his knees. "No!" He bellowed, "Heero! I'm coming for you!" Duo cried and stood up. His rage was unmistakable as he vanished into the shadows after the short wearing darker brown haired boy.

The next things that happened were a blur in a dramatic twist. All that was comprehendible in times past were unreasonable tales of water, Nerf guns, and pillows. The results always were the same. Heero won, and Duo ended up a slain warrior. Fallen to his enemy, Duo retreated to the kitchen where Quatra sat, nibbling on some pumpkin pie. The boy offered Duo a plate as the soaked braid dripped upon the floor.

Duo grunted his thanks as he pulled a feather from his hair and tossed it aside, "Trowa's avenging us."

Quatre sighed and shook his head, "I don't remember why we started this," he aimlessly commented.

Duo chuckled and nibbled on his pie, "Well Une shot Wufei with a water gun, remember? Then he was devoted to shooting her in the eye. Then we gave him a Nerf gun for Christmas because Une started wearing her glasses again. Then that lead to all of us getting the guns and here we are, using them." Duo glanced over his shoulder as Wufei entered the kitchen. He had more feathers on him, but he wasn't soaked like Duo was. "What, did Heero get the hose again?" The boy questioned as he noticed Duo's dripping sops.

Duo laughed, "No, I almost got his gun away from him by the pool," he remarked with a smirk, proud of himself.

The boys chuckled together as Heero entered.

"No name, no game." Quatre commented quietly as Trowa followed him in.

Trowa glanced at Quatre with an amused lilt to his expression. "He was aiming for my eye."


End file.
